FarWars
by OfficerAerynSun27
Summary: What would happen if our favorite scruffy-looking nerf herder met the crew of Moya? Much crack contained within.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't own Farscape. Or Star Wars. Obviously. This is pure crack. Apologies in advance...

* * *

She pounded the empty glass back down on the bar, the foul raz'lak burning her throat. It tasted like dren. But at least it was strong.

Aeryn wasn't sure what she was doing in this place. A disgusting bar on an even more disgusting commerce planet. Dingy, dark and crawling with the sort of low-lifes she'd sooner shoot than speak to. But here she was._Might as well have another frelling drink_. She nodded to the bartender for a refill.

"Careful," a voice said from further on down the bar. "Keep it up and somebody's gonna have to peel you off the floor later." She could practically hear the smirk. "Can I volunteer?"

Aeryn's expression hardened. She shot a glare in the direction of the man's voice. And sure enough, there he sat. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. She'd seen his type before. Cocky, smug, and far too sure of himself with women. Her fingers itched to reach for her pulse pistol. But instead she simply raised one eyebrow in cool disinterest.

"Does that line usually work?" She had been tempted to simply ignore him. It was certainly _easier_ than shooting him. But maybe it was the raz'lak that had changed her mind.

The man seemed to take her words as encouragement, leaning forward and putting his elbows up on the bar. The smug grin was still firmly in place. With an infuriating shrug he replied, "Sometimes. You never know. No harm in tryin'!"

"Only if you value your limbs," she responded dryly. Aeryn took another sip, looking ahead of her instead of at the stranger. She had wanted a drink in peace. Now she was regretting it. If she'd wanted ramblings, she could've gone to Crichton…

But he still wasn't put off. He slid into the seat next to her and stuck out a hand. "Han Solo," he said. "Can I buy you a drink? Or's that a shooting offense too?"

"It's about to be."

"C'mon! I'm a nice guy! You're not gonna at least give me your name?"

Aeryn looked back at him. "No."

Solo frowned. Clearly, he wasn't a man used to being rejected by women. But he wasn't ready to give up. "If you do, I'll take ya for a ride. Got one helluva ship out there. The Millennium Falcon. You've probably heard of her… Made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs?" He sat back, looking more than a little pleased with himself.

And that's what did it. Aeryn smirked. She could have laughed, but it wasn't worth the effort. She stood up. As she put money down on the bar, she said, "If you think twelve parsecs is impressive, I pity you." Any Prowler pilot would be insulted by that boast. Even the slowest could've bested that after half a cycle of training.

Aeryn glanced up at him again. "I've done it in seven."

And with that, she was gone, leaving the smuggler gaping in her wake.


	2. Chapter 2

Aeryn heaved the final crate on the stack of munitions. Despite the less-than-pleasant distraction in the bar, the trip had been fairly successful. Their food supply was restocked and they had enough chakan oil to last them through many more of their seemingly inevitable firefights.

Wiping a few beads of sweat off her brow, she made her way out of the maintenance bay, meaning to head straight to her quarters. But she'd barely made it out the door when Pilot's urgent voice rang out over the comms.

"Officer Sun! Moya's scanners have detected an unknown vessel. It appears to have followed us when we went into starburst."

Aeryn frowned. _What the frell?_ She was sure the transport pod hadn't been followed when they left the commerce planet. "Alright. I'm on my way, Pilot," she said, changing course and heading for the command deck.

Crichton and D'Argo were already staring intently at the projection of the mysterious ship when she joined them. She put her hands on her hips and frowned at the image. It wasn't what she'd been expecting.

"A Corellian YT-1300 light freighter," Aeryn said, the surprise evident in her voice. "_Heavily_ modified by the looks of it. Though what the frell it's doing all the way out here, I have no idea."

"Maybe they got lost!" Chiana's voice rang out as she joined them. "Y'know – just lost. Not tryin' to kill us! That's gotta be the explanation sometime, right?"

D'Argo glared at the projection. "Pilot? What do we know of its weapons capabilities?" he said gruffly.

But before Pilot could respond, a wheezing noise from the other side of the console drew everyone's attention.

John was staring at the projection, eyes wide and mouth agape. He tried mouthing words, but no sound was coming out. Aeryn assumed he must be ill.

"What's the matter with you, Crichton?" she said sharply. Knowing him, it could be anything. After all, it had taken him whole solar days to figure out how Moya's doors worked.

His mouth flapped wordlessly a few more times. "It's – But - That's the Millennium Falcon!"

There were blanks stares all around.

"C'mon! The Millennium Falcon? Han Solo! Chewie and laser guns and _pew pew_!" He made little guns with his fists in demonstration before finally giving up with a despairing look. "What I'm _saying_ is this ship's from Star Wars. A very _fictional_ bunch of movies back on Earth. So, s'cuse me if I'm a little confused as to why it just_FOLLOWED US OUTTA STARBURST!"_

"John…" D'Argo began, concern in his voice.

"Yeah. What d'ya say you go lay down, Crichton?" Chiana added with a worried tilt of the head.

But Aeryn was silent through it all. Why did that sound so familiar? Han Solo… Millennium Falcon_… Frell_. Her mind shot back to the terrible bar and cocksure pilot she'd found there. Her teeth set in annoyance. What the frell did he think he was doing? Following them? The little patience Aeryn had left for that man evaporated in a microt.

John was mid-sentence – protesting his sanity – when Aeryn cut him off. "Pilot. Deploy the docking web. Bring it aboard. It isn't a threat."

"But, Officer Sun –"

"Trust me," she added dryly.

Her jaw still tight with frustration, Aeryn stalked out of command and headed down towards the transport hangar. She didn't miss the confused looks from the rest of the crew, but they followed anyway.

When the ship docked, they all were waiting. Aeryn stood at the front, a hard and unwelcoming look on her face. As the ramp of the vessel descended, she put her hand on the grip of her pulse pistol – in order to make the appropriate impression. Because this man was _not_ going to be made to feel at home.

Sure enough, the smirk she remembered was still firmly attached to Solo's face when he appeared. He swaggered down the ramp, the most accurate definition of the word _swagger_ she'd ever come across. But she quickly noted he was armed – a modified DL-44 heavy blaster pistol, by the looks of it.

"Well, this is a fine bunch of folks we got here, isn't it?" Solo said. The smirk might have distracted some, but Aeryn saw that he kept his distance, clearly anticipating a less-than-friendly welcome – or at the very least, he was staying cautious. The bravado appeared to be covering sense… _Not as stupid as I thought,_ Aeryn mused.

"Solo," she said coolly. "Start talking. _Now_."

CONTINUED IN FARWARS #3! _A Peacekeeper. A Smuggler. Who will shoot first?_


	3. Chapter 3

It was a staring contest. Aeryn's hand was on her gun, Solo's hand on his. She was glaring, he was smirking. And neither seemed of a mind to budge.

_What the frell does he think he's doing here?_ He'd followed her off the commerce planet, all the way out into deep space. And it wasn't difficult to figure out why. He was a smuggler by the looks of things. Which meant he was always looking for whatever would pay. And the rewards on their heads would do _just_ that. It was no wonder he'd tried to corner her in that dive of a bar. She gripped her weapon tighter, ready to draw it at any moment. Aeryn saw his eyes flick down to the pulse pistol on her thigh. _Good._ He was well aware of the damage she could do.

Behind this standoff, the rest of Moya's crew looked on. D'Argo was clearly itching to shoot, his Qualta Blade at the ready. Chiana's head was tipped in curiosity – and appreciation - at the newcomer. John, on the other hand… he had gone white as a dentic, his mind clearly on overload. He'd seen some strange things in the Uncharted Territories. Wild, fantastical things that he'd had no choice but to take in stride. But this? This was a new level of unreal! _….. He used to have action figures of this guy…._

Back over near the uninvited ship, the staring contest continued. But finally, Han blinked first. Or at least decided to break the silence first.

"Real warm welcome! This how you greet all your friends?" He crossed his arms over his chest, rocking back on his heels a bit.

Aeryn's eyebrows shot up. "Oh! Friend is it? _That_ remains to be seen," she responded coolly. She pulled her pulse pistol out of its holster. "Why did you follow us? Explain yourself, or I'll have no choice but to shoot." Her voice was deadly calm. _Not something to smirk about, you frellwit,_ she thought with annoyance.

Solo held up his hands. "Easy, Princess Trigger Happy! Just thought you might be interested in doing a little business!" He winked at her then. " 'Cuz back on the planet, I was getting the sense you'd be _real_ receptive to the idea." That smirk was back and Aeryn had to physically stop herself from squeezing the trigger.

"What sort of business?" D'Argo's booming voice came from behind them.

The smuggler's eyes flicked towards the Luxan, clearly taking account of the _very_ big weapon pointed at him. He laughed. Only someone who was listening carefully would catch the hint of nervousness in it. "Just a …_transport_job. Too big for me and my ship. But the pay off's hard to resist. We could all get a nice cushy cut of the profits."

Aeryn narrowed her eyes at him. So, she'd been right. Smuggling. But she didn't buy the rest of it for a microt. "Do you think I'm completely fahrbot? You throw yourself at me in a bar, follow us out of starburst with your piece of dren ship and now claim you have work for us? The shooting idea gets more appealing by the microt," she said dryly.

Han raised his forefinger in warning, opening his mouth to protest. But another voice from the top of the Falcon's ramp interrupted him. It was a loud growling cry – one that took Aeryn's translator microbes a moment to process, as if it was not a language frequently translated. But finally the words came through clearly. _"Oi! Leave off it 'fore I run you through!"_

When he stepped further into the light of the transport hangar, Aeryn saw why there had been a translation delay. She'd never seen anyone from Kashyyk. Not in person, at least. They were nearly unheard of in the Uncharted Territories. But she couldn't deny they were impressive.

"Is that a Wookie?" A sneering voice rang out from the doorway, accompanied by the soft whizzing sound of a hover chair. "Great hairy beasts, the lot of them. One of my lesser wives had a carpet made out of one of the smelly things. Best use for them, I say!" said Rygel, a smug grin on his face.

There was a growl from the Wookie in question. But there was nothing to translate this time. The sentiment was rather obvious.

"Careful there, Spanky," John said. Apparently, he'd somehow managed to find the power of speech again, although the shock – or was it awe? – was still all over his face. "He could tear your arms right outta their sockets."

He was met by rather confused stares from his shipmates. "What?" he cried defensively. "I've seen the movies a million times, okay?" he added under his breath.

There was a moment of silence.

"Where'd you find that one?" Han said to Aeryn, jerking his thumb towards the human.

"It's a _very _long story."

Han shrugged. "Anyway, like I was saying! This job's big. Me and Chewie here could use a few extra pairs of hands. Pretty sure we could come to some kinda fair deal about the profits…" He trailed off, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Aeryn shook her head and raised her weapon slightly. "You still haven't explained why should trust—"

"Officer Sun! Commander Crichton! Moya's scanners have just detected two _more_ vessels!" Pilot's voice rang out over the comms. "One is… a Peacekeeper Command Carrier. The other is yet to be identified, but appears to be just as large and heavily armed."

Aeryn heard the smuggler next to her mutter, "Imperials."

She shot him a deadly glare. "What the _frell _did you do now?"

CONTINUED IN FARWARS #4: _Peacekeepers! Imperials! Firefights! Oh my!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Frell._

This was bad. About as bad as Moya and her crew had ever faced. A Peacekeeper command carrier and an Imperial star destroyer had just been picked up on the scanners. They had _maybe_ a quarter of an arn before they were in weapons range. They had to move quickly. Any hesitation and they'd all be frelled.

Aeryn was quietly seething. Her impenetrable exterior marred only by the tight jaw and clenched fists. She turned her burning gaze on Solo. "This is _your _fault. We've out run command carriers before. But _two_ warships? We won't even have time to power up for starburst." She took a step towards him, anger rising to the surface. "Don't you realize we have no weapons?!"

Solo took a step back, but his expression was defensive. "Hey! This ain't _my_ fault!" He leaned in then, so their noses were only a breath apart. "The Imperials? Yeah. I'll admit I'm not their favorite guy. But these Peacekeepers? That's on you, sister!" he said, jabbing her shoulder with his forefinger.

It took all of Aeryn's self restraint not to hit him. But there were more critical matters at hand. She didn't say a word, just maintained her death glare and stalked out of the transport hangar, the rest of the crew following quickly. She honestly had no idea what the frell they were going to do. Her Prowler had some firepower. But against these ships? It would be a temporary distraction, at best.

In the passage, John caught up to her. "Aeryn," he said quietly, putting his hand to her elbow. "I know you're not gonna like this but… Flyboy back there? His ship's got weapons. Pretty effective ones too. He can help us."

She shot him a sharp look. "How do you know his weapons capabilities?" He'd been acting fahrbot – more so than usual. There was something about Solo and his ship… But his voice was serious. Whatever it was seemed to have subsided in the seriousness of their situation._ At least for the moment._

John stopped, forcing her to follow suit. He was quiet for a long moment, clearly trying to decide what to say. "Just trust me, okay? I know." He looked at her, eyes pleading with her to believe him. "I know I sound crazy. Believe me! I get it! But this time I'm not…."

Aeryn was quiet for a moment, doing her best to read him. But she couldn't help but trust his word. As magra fahrbot as he could be sometimes, he'd developed a habit of being right. Besides, trusting Crichton was something she'd grown accustomed to… She gave a quick nod. "Alright. I'll ask him." They shared a look for another couple microts before John continued ahead to the command deck. Aeryn fell back, waiting for Solo to catch up.

When the smuggler reached her, he had an almost awed look on his face. "What kinda ship did you say she was? This is incredible!"

"I didn't," Aeryn said, falling into step beside him. "Moya is a Leviathan. A biomechanoid – part mechanic, part organic. She has no weapons capabilities, but she's proven reliable." It was a rather simple response. It would be difficult to explain to a stranger just what Moya meant to them all.

Solo shook his head slowly. "Never seen anything like it before…"

As he trailed off, they reached the command, the urgency of the situation taking them over again. Aeryn made her way quickly over to D'Argo, who was already examining the holographic projection of the three ships. She had hardly been expecting an encouraging sight, but the image of the two vessels dwarfing Moya was disheartening to say the least.

"We're all frelled! There's nothing more to it!" came Rygel's voice from over their shoulders. Aeryn ignored it, instead focusing on what John had said. She turned around to face the smuggler who was currently engaged in an awed examination of one of Moya's control panels.

"Solo!" she called sharply. "I understand your ship has weapons. Do you think they'll help slow them down? At least until Moya can regain her strength to starburst out of here?"

His brow furrowed, clearly trying to calculate relative firepower. But D'Argo piped up first. "Are we really going to trust him? How do you know he won't fire at _us_?" he demanded.

Solo's face grew defensive again. "I told you! I'm no friend to the Empire! You think I'm workin' for them?"

D'Argo opened his mouth to argue but John cut him off. "Solo's right," he said. "He's got no reason to pick them over us. And the Peacekeepers'll turn him in the second they realize he's got a nice hefty record!"

_Unless they'd be willing to pay for us,_ Aeryn thought. _Make some sort of deal._ But there was little to be done now. They had no choice. Solo's ship was the only chance they had of not being blown out of the sky. If he betrayed them, they would be in no worse shape than if they did nothing. _Why are our plans always this terrible?_She turned to Solo.

"Can you do it?"

There was a long silence as the smuggler thought it over. But finally he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I think so." The Wookie at his side growled his agreement.

Aeryn nodded. But before she could return to strategizing, Pilot's voice sang out over the comm system. "Officer Sun! The command carrier is within communications range." She could hear the hesitation in his voice. "We are receiving a transmission."

"Put it through," she said, apprehension filling her. This couldn't be encouraging.

After a microt, an image appeared on the main view screen – one that made her blood run cold.

"John… Officer Sun…. So_ good_ to see you again…"

Han Solo looked on, clearly at a loss. "Who's_ that_?"

John's voice was tight when he answered, clearly doing his best to keep the anger in check.

"Scorpius."

CONTINUED IN FARWARS #5: _How will our heroes defeat the Scorpy menace?_


	5. Chapter 5

Scorpius.

Aeryn went cold. She could feel John tense beside her. He'd found them. Again. But how? They'd been so careful. But she didn't have time to worry about it in detail. It seemed this was a special skill of his – whenever they least expected him, Scorpius appeared.

"What? No hello? No warm welcome? But it has been such a long time," Scorpius' smooth voice rang out over the comm system. A sinister smile spread across his face, baring the grey, pointed teeth.

"What d'you want, Scorpy?" John said, cutting him off before he could say more, his eyes fixed on the view screen. "Got some fancy new demands for us? Or just the usual: a one way free pass to Wormholes R Us?"

"Oh, John, you should know by now precisely what I want. And I will have it, whether you give it to me willingly or not. I will have that knowledge inside your mind."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, cut the crap!" John snapped, moving around to the front of the console and closer to the screen. "You showed up outta nowhere, so I'm guessing you got some kinda deal goin' with your new pals. The guys with the better ship? Have the Imps got themselves a new errand boy?" John shook his head and let out a soft tsk. "You would go the dark side, Scorp…"

Across the command deck, Han Solo wore a look of mild confusion and considerable disgust. A reasonable reaction, Aeryn thought. He took a few steps towards the rest of the crew. "Look, I hate to break up what seems to be a nice friendly reunion here, but can somebody – I don't care who - do us all a favor and just get to the point?"

Scorpius' larger than life eyes on the few screen flicked towards Solo. The unpleasant grin widened. "Aaaahhh… If it isn't the just the man I'm looking for. Captain Han Solo. Of the Millennium Falcon." His voice lilted eerily over the names. "It seems you're quite in demand, Captain."

Every pair of eyes on the bridge was immediately on Solo.

"And why is that?" Rygel asked sharply. "He's pathetic smuggler. Hardly worth one vessel, let alone two!"

"Ah, but that is where you're wrong, Dominar," Scorpius said. "I'm afraid Captain Solo is a valued member of the Rebel Alliance – a rather unfortunate nuisance for the Empire. He holds all sorts of information my friends mind find… interesting."

A low growl came from the corner of the command. D'Argo was only just containing his rage. He turned on Solo. " 'Not their favorite guy!' That is what you told us! You led them straight to us knowing what they wanted of you!" He made to reach for his Qualta Blade, but the voice from the comm system stilled him.

"Oh dear. Trouble in the ranks? How unfortunate," Scorpius said. "But that, you see, is the essence of our deal. I get Crichton and the knowledge in his brain. They get Solo, a new vessel - and an ally with a powerful weapon." He let out a contended sigh. "You see, John? It's hopeless. You might have eluded my grasp before. But you will never escape our Imperial friends."

The communication channel closed and the image of Scorpius disappeared, leaving only the sight of the two massive vessels through the view port. The command deck was silent for a long moment.

Aeryn was at a loss. Any hope of their previous plan was gone. It had been farfetched under those circumstances, but now it was dashed completely. Their only option was to resist capture as long as they could when Moya was inevitably boarded. And if they succeeded – if Scorpius succeeded – John would be gone and two powerful militaries would have a wormhole weapon. The destructive power was almost unthinkable. She didn't need to look to her crew to know they were reaching similar conclusions. To her right, she heard John mutter to himself, "Sure could use Yoda right about now…"

"You!" D'Argo cried, striding towards Solo. "I demand an explanation! And no more of this lucrative job dren!"

Han took a defensive step back from the Luxan about to take his head off. But he did look a touch guilty. "Alright alright! Yeah, I lied! Like leather face there said, I'm working with the Rebels. I heard about this ship of yours down on the planet and thought I'd come take a look. See if it'd do us any good."

"You were gonna try and steal Moya?" Chiana cried angrily.

"Whoa! Not steal, no!" Han's voice was lasted with frustration. He was clearly losing his patience. "Look, we're gettin' by with the skin of our teeth. Our fleet's not half as strong as it oughta be… I thought I might be able to – uh – persuade you to help us out… with some financial compensation."

But before anyone could say a word in response, Pilot's voice came through the comms. "A tractor beam from the Imperial Star Destroyer has locked onto Moya! We're being pulled!" he cried.

"They're gonna bring us alongside the ship and board us," Solo said, his voice serious this time – any smugness and impatience gone for the time being. Smug as he may be, Aeryn could see it was a mask for a strategic mind. Or at least one dead set on staying alive. "We're gonna have to be ready for them. You guys got weapons on board? Other than – well – that," he asked with a suspicious nod towards D'Argo's blade.

"Who is giving the orders around here?!" D'Argo demanded angrily. "It is not you!"

"Not now, D'Argo," Aeryn said. "We can squabble over that later. We need to get the munitions storage. We have to be prepared for anything." She put her hands on her hips and looked to each member of the crew as she spoke. "We should take position around the transport hangar, gun them down as they attempt to board. Hold them off as long as we can. Hopefully enough time for Pilot to figure out a way to dislodge the tractor beam."

"Are you frelling fahrbot?" Rygel cried. "Moya is massive! I'm going to hide. They won't find me and they won't take me prisoner!"

"Do what you want, Rygel," Aeryn snarled. "I will not hide like a coward."

With a huff and another curse, the Hynerian zoomed off on his ThroneSled towards some unknown bowel of Moya.

"Alright, we don't have much time. We need to move."

As they hurried out of the command towards the munitions storage, John leaned into Aeryn. "You know what we could all use right about now? Lightsabers."

A few hundred microts later, Aeryn and Han were concealed behind a bulkhead just outside the door of the transport hangar. The others were stationed at various locations nearby. They were nearly alongside the Imperial vessel and before long the place would be swarming with soldiers and pulse fire.

"Here, take this," she said, handing him a large pulse rifle – a hand-held frag cannon. It was more maneuverable than her own sling rifle, but unlikely to do as much damage. She wasn't sure how much she trusted Solo with a weapon as powerful as the one she'd chosen. But it seemed she'd see his abilities soon enough…

"What kinda range has that got?" Solo asked, nodding to the sling rifle at her hip. "Never seen one quite like that before." He was looking at it with an obvious admiration.

Aeryn raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. She pointed the rifle down one corridor long enough that the blast would dissipate before doing any damage to Moya, and fired. The loud blast echoed through the corridors, briefly lighting them in a glow before fading into the distance. She looked over to Solo. "Excellent range."

Solo let out a snort of laughter and looked from the gun to Aeryn and back again. He shook his head in amusement. "I love you," he grinned.

Aeryn managed not to smirk again. Nearly.

"I know."

A low rumble cut off any further conversation. It looked like Imperials arrived. Aeryn and Solo exchanged a look and raised their weapons in readiness.

CONTINUED IN FARWARS #6: Time to fight fire with fire!


	6. Chapter 6

The sounds of the oncoming soldiers grew louder. In the distance, Aeryn could hear the rush of the airlock opening. She closed her eyes for a microt, steeling herself for the fight that was about to occur. Her mind quickly flicked to John and the others, already stationed elsewhere, ready to attack when the moment came.

Crouched in position, she looked across the hallway to Solo. His face was serious and his blaster was unholstered, trained towards the door. _I hope he's as good as that frelling ego,_ she thought. If she was being honest with herself, though, she suspected he would prove useful. That wasn't to say she trusted him – not for a microt! But he clearly had seen his share of battle. Aeryn opened her mouth to confirm as much when the sound of shouted voices from within the transport hangar ended all other thoughts.

Their visitors had arrived.

"They're gonna blast in the door," Han muttered from across the passage.

Aeryn's head snapped towards him. "Are you sure?" But without waiting for confirmation, she ducked out from her position to one further from the door. She lifted the pulse rifle from her hip and aimed carefully.

They didn't have to wait long. The shouts got louder and suddenly, a sickening _BOOM_ shot through the corridor, sending smoke and shards of Moya's internal structure blasting outward. Aeryn ducked her head, shielding her eyes against the debris. She could feel the Leviathan shudder violently beneath her, no doubt in agonizing pain over the attack. Silently, Aeryn willed Pilot to keep her strong for them – to keep her from being any more frightened.

But suddenly, the smoke began to glow from the discharge of Imperial blasters. The noise of the explosion morphed into shouted orders, cries of pain, and the din of laser fire. It was then her training kicked back in. Without another microt's hesitation, she fired her pulse rifle into the fray. She saw several white-helmeted troopers drop to the ground in a heap of singed armor. As the smoke started to clear, the attackers stood out against Moya's warmly colored halls. _Well, that's a convenient target. Who the frell designed those uniforms?_Out of the corner of her eye she could see Solo following her lead, picking off soldiers as they rushed through the door.

Coughing against the smoke that still hung in the air, Aeryn tugged at the comm on her vest. "Crichton!" she called over the noise of laser fire. "Crichton, are you there? Are you in position?"

Their plan was a shoddy, patch-work one at best. Aeryn and Solo were the first line of defense, trying to thin out the troopers as they came aboard. D'Argo and Chewbacca were the second line, stationed further inside Moya, protecting the command from being taken. And then came Crichton and Chiana's job. Using Moya's vast network of ducts and crawl-spaces, they were to make their way back into the transport hangar and attempt to disable the main airlock. It was a dangerous plan, filled with holes. But with options spread thin, they decided all that could be done was hold them off as long as possible. Under any other circumstances, Aeryn would have shot the idea down as quickly as it had been suggested, but they were worryingly low on choices…

"Aeryn!" John's voice crackled through the comm system. "We're almost there. How you guys holdin' up?"

She fired her weapon at a charging trooper, turning back to the comm as he collapsed to the ground. "We're fine for now, but I'm not sure how long we can hold them. There may be too many!" As she spoke, she ducked around the corner, narrowly avoiding a hail of blaster fire.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you guys can take 'em," John called through the comm. "These Storm Trooper fellas aren't exactly famous for their aim!"

Aeryn frowned and opened her mouth to ask what the frell he was rambling about. But Crichton cut her off.

"Just hold in there. Me 'n Pip almost got it. We'll be all locked up in no time!"

"Understood."

She suspected he was being overly optimistic. The cheer in his voice sounded almost forced, like he knew what odds he was facing. As ridiculous as the human often was, she'd known him too long to doubt his judgment when it mattered. They may not succeed for long in keeping the Imperial troops at bay, but she knew they'd all rather die trying than simply roll over. They had fought too hard for survival for that…

But her train of thought was interrupted when a shadow passed over her head. Aeryn's eyes snapped upward just in time to see a trooper raising his blaster to her chest. She had only a microt to respond. Grasping her pulse rifle in a vice grip, she slammed the butt of it into the side of her attacker's head, knocking him to the ground. _Frell me, that was close._

Her comm crackled again. "Aeryn, you there? We got lockdown!" It was Crichton again. He and Chiana had sealed the airlock. They'd bought them a little time. "You guys need a some backup?"

"Any you can give us!" she replied, ducking another round of laser fire, before sending a pulse blast of her own. "We're barely holding them." A glance at Solo told her he was having the same difficulty. His jaw was set in determination as he fired round after round. For every trooper they took down, it seemed like two more appeared in their place. "D'Argo!" Aeryn called into the comm. "Is command still secure?" There wasn't a response immediately, but she could hear distant blaster fire from the Luxan's end.

"Yes," came D'Argo's voice. "These frellniks have barely made it this far! We will have defeated them in no time!" His statement was punctuated by the sound of a pulse from his Qualta Blade.

A vague – and largely unfamiliar – sentiment began creeping over Aeryn then. It was something akin to hope. They were holding them off. Barely, but better than she had anticipated. Perhaps Pilot _would_ have time to devise a way to break free of the tractor beam, after all… It was a slim chance, but suddenly not so impossible. She was about to ask for Pilot's progress when suddenly it dawned on her that the firefight had stopped.

The short-lived feelings of hope evaporated instantly. Why had the attack stopped? There were still troopers coming through when she checked in with the crew. There was no possible way they would have simply given up – their paltry defense was only a temporary hindrance. She realized then that neither Crichton nor Chiana had provided the back-up they'd promised. That wasn't like them. _There's no way this ends well._ Aeryn raised her pulse rifle again and peered down the corridor towards the half-destroyed remnants of the transport hangar doors. She met Solo's eyes from across the passageway and her instincts were confirmed. The same concerned look was written across his face. He knew these people. If he was worried, they all ought to be.

She took a few cautious steps towards the transport hangar when a sudden chill filled the corridor. She stopped dead.

A large figure flanked by Storm Troopers stepped through the destroyed entry hatch.. He was tall and covered head to toe in black. His face was hidden behind a dark helmet and mask. Aeryn didn't recognize him, but she knew one thing for certain:

They were frelled.

* * *

The command deck of the Imperial Star Destroyer was cold, sterile and nearly empty. Officers were at their posts below the raised walkway, eyes determinedly focused on their screens. The same massive figure who had strode onto Moya an hour earlier stood staring out at the ships in the star field - the mysterious Leviathan and unwieldy Command Carrier. The only sound on deck was the heavy, mechanical breathing emanating from his mask.

The doors at the other end of the command opened with a soft _whoosh._ Another darkly clad figure stepped in, but this one's face could be seen. It wore a triumphant smirk beneath a heavy coolant suit, hybrid features clearly pleased with the direction the day's events had taken.

Scorpius made his way slowly down the walkway toward the larger man. He was content to make him wait. After all, he did not appreciate being summoned in this way. He was not under Imperial command! He would not subject to their orders. This agreement between them benefited all sides, but his motivation was what it always had been: John Crichton and his wormhole technology.

"Lord Vader," he said smoothly, his annoyance hidden beneath an expertly crafted façade. "You wished to speak with me. I can only imagine it is to hand over your part of our… little _bargain_."

Vader turned to face him, but said nothing for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he ignored Scorpius' question. "We have the crew of the Leviathan in custody. Their pathetic attempts to defend the vessel were easily crushed. They will be interrogated immediately. I intend to see to it personally…"

"Yes and I'm sure your methods are… thorough," said Scorpius. "But I must insist you hand over Crichton to me now. I require his mind intact in order to obtain the information I desire." A twisted smile spread across his face, baring his grey, jagged teeth. "Do with the others as you please. But I assure you – my own methods are _very_effective…"

"That is impossible," Vader replied, his deep voice filtering eerily through the mask. "I'm afraid the terms of our agreement have changed. Our intelligence tells us you have repeatedly _failed_ to capture this Crichton. I will not allow this important task to be left to someone of _your_ incompetence. _I_ will keep Crichton. Our scientists will obtain the technology. We may perhaps share it – should it prove _valuable._"

Scorpius fumed. No. This was not possible! "The Peacekeepers will not stand for this!" he said through gritted teeth. "They will not accept this Imperial dominance in –"

"They have already agreed to the plan." Vader interrupted. "It seems your personal _desires_ mean little to your commanders. Not when a strategic alliance is at stake." With that, Vader brushed past him and strode down the walkway, cloak billowing behind him. "Guards, see that he is returned to his vessel. We are _finished_here."

Scorpius growled at the guards as they approached, but he knew he had little choice but to return to the Command Carrier. For now. He would not stand for this betrayal. He cared nothing for Moya's crew. But he _would_ have John Crichton. Imperial alliance or no, wormhole technology would be his.

At whatever the cost.

NEXT TIME in _FarWars #7: Time for a good old-fashioned prison break!_


End file.
